


D&D - Found

by rprambles



Series: Moe Dulosk [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Nausea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rprambles/pseuds/rprambles
Summary: A fate worse than death.
Series: Moe Dulosk [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509014
Kudos: 1





	D&D - Found

The building seems out of place, plonked down in the middle of water-filled caves. Though everything about this trip has been strange, why should this be any different? Moe walks up to the door, waiting until Ardan declares it clear of traps to knock. No response. No handle that he can see. He takes a step back and looks to his father. “You remember anything about this place?”

He doesn’t quite answer the question, reaching out to the stone. “She’s here, son.”

Moe fights the urge to pin him against the wall by his throat again. “That’s really fucking helpful, Dad-”

The stone door slides open with a soft rumble. Shelves line the walls inside, filled with neat rows of clear jars; in each is a brain suspended in liquid.

“A fate worse than death,” his father repeats, voice cracking.

Moe turns away. Walks down to the shore line. And vomits. He’s shaking, he realizes, a white-knuckle grip on his knees to keep himself upright. From the sound he’s not the only one whose stomach turned.

“That’s fucking weird,” Lyvia announces.

“I don’t understand,” Suma’s saying when he walks back. “Why would they do this?”

Ithuryn looks pale, but he’s holding together. “You recall the tentacle-y thing we killed?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, they eat brains. Sometimes, however, they find a brain that they’d rather… keep. To read through later like a book.”

Moe can’t decide if he wants to throw up again or go back to that thing’s corpse and tear it to pieces. He takes a breath and rejoins his father at the door. “...alright. Which one?”

“I don’t know.”

He draws his sword. Ruby presses against the back of his mind with an idle curiosity. _What now?_

He makes himself look at the shelves. _Where is she?_ He walks slowly, looking at each in turn. Are they aware of him? Like Ruby, soul and mind trapped in the dark? The thought makes his skin crawl and he swallows again.

_There._

He stops. The occupant of the jar doesn’t look any different from its neighbors, but Ruby almost thrums with certainty. He sheathes the sword before carefully picking up the jar, half afraid it will break at his touch. It doesn't, the brain shifting only a little in the liquid. He doesn’t know what to do now. This isn’t at all how he’d imagined meeting his mother.


End file.
